There is someone that I long to see

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There is someone that I long to see, but cannot name, cannot know, cannot locate the 'in the physical world' identity of this person; can only feel the form of their appearance, the impending reality I've yet to experience.

More often they just brush my shoulder as we each are pulled into the space and space of the other at that precise moment that the two of us turn, and are both pulled away again as the image begins to evaporate. Other times they hover in the spaces in the mind, an unseen expectation waiting until the moment when I can be what they have been waiting for me to be.

I don't know what I would imagine it is like to offer them some pre-planned, carefully articulated introduction when I think of seeing them, but simply, stillness, a stretched-out moment where two separate streams of history collide and merge at that point when both are aware, as each of us is, that that one tiny encounter had a million other necessary encounters before it was able to exist.

Maybe a shared look that is somehow also a knowing laugh, at how far my anticipation went beyond that meeting. Maybe an shift in the resonance of the universe so minute it is not detectable, save for the fact of the discovery of a hitherto unseen door within my own chest.

And who are they? My friend? My love? A stranger who holds the final page in my unfolding tale? I have no idea; yet, I sense their future presence as profoundly as their present absence. I feel their future on the days I hesitate in certain locales, and in the way I cling to fragments of conversation that come so close to carrying the depth of meaning I am waiting to share, almost as if I am rehearsing for that real moment.

I often ponder whether they, too, await our meeting and experience this quiet calling towards the one yet-to-be. I wonder if they too sense the singular disharmony that needs to be struck before their story finds its perfect melody. Until that time, I carry them within me- not as an anchor of weight, but as an anchored point of possibility, for somewhere between the me of today and the me of tomorrow, there's a split second when our timelines intersect and, of course, I know I'll realize.

Thanks for reading my post I'm inviting @pea07 @ninapenda and @abdullahw2 to participate.